As requested by Greekphysique, here are some pictures of me wearing glasses! It seems like a somewhat odd request, I’m sure, but this is the age of “selfies” so it’s all good

Personally, I think I look better in glasses than without them no matter how many people tell me I should get contacts. The very thought of trying to poke some lenses into my eyeballs makes me cringe. I never got the hang of eye liner and struggle with mascara due to my dislike of having things that close to my eyes. Maybe that’s why I like glasses, they kinda protect you…

Anyways, all of the photos have been taken in the past two months even though I am wearing three different pairs of glasses. In the pictures I will be an incredible dork–of course–doing stuff like cleaning my closet, lying on the floor, and other random things…

Every year I throw myself a birthday party. You may wonder why I’d do such a thing, but ever since the year everyone –even my parents– forgot it was my birthday I’ve arranged for my own celebrations. It isn’t like anyone else is going to throw a party for me, as much as I’d love for someone else to plan an event.

This year I was thinking of having a dinner party, it seemed like a grown up thing to do… but there was a teeny tiny problem. Okay, there were actually a lot of big problems. Namely that I had no where to host such an event because I don’t have my own place and I really can’t cook very well. Plus, a friend of mine said that having an at-home event would not be enough to celebrate this major milestone of my life.

So the new plan was for all of us to go to a restaurant that opened in the summer none of us had been to and go to a movie afterwards. Not exactly a huge hoopla, but still something fun. The food was really good, but due to the delay in ordering (we were waiting for people who failed to arrive) and us just talking so much we missed the start time for the alternate movie we were going to see (the one we planned on wasn’t playing here after all).

I was okay with it because the Bs had told me in advance they weren’t going to the cinema, and C let me know when she arrived that her work shift was changed so she couldn’t come either. Since the Bs were going to stop for coffee on their way home to catch up (they hadn’t seen each other in a while), A and I decided to join them instead of going to the movie late.

Both C and one of the Bs gave me a prezzie. C got me a pretty bracelet and an absolutely stunning journal –which she said was for me to write about my travels in Ireland. B gave me a scarf made of wool from Scotland, a material scarf she made, and a bunch of hand-me down clothes. I LOVE getting clothes from my friend’s closets, so to me that’s a fab gift. Mbff teased about what he’d give me, and I was hoping to get it on my actual birthday…

I had a fairly fun night, and it was a good thing too. My actual birthday really, really sucked. As in it was almost as horrible as the time everyone forgot my birthday. No one forgot this year, we have FB now to remind us *rolls eyes*, but my parents may as well have. They both took the day off, but it turns out it wasn’t to spend the day with me. No, it was so they could go Christmas shopping.

For my birthday I ended up cleaning my room. Yeah, seriously, the girl who hates cleaning did it on her birthday for something to do. That done, I was just in the process of making arrangements to go to Mbff’s to watch a movie when my parents came home. Being told we would leaving soon, I postponed going to Mbff’s until after dinner, cake, and prezzies… but I could have went because it took two hours before my parents decided they were hungry.

On our way to the restaurant I was informed dad couldn’t afford both the dinner out and an ice cream cake as promised. I shouldn’t be so selfishly disappointed, considering I was getting more than people in poorer countries do, but my birthday wasn’t going well and being told my dad didn’t even bother budgeting in the only two things he actually buys for my birthday kind of hurt.

Then, to make matters worse, we did not go home after dinner to open my presents. No, I was dragged out Christmas shopping and ended up following around my parents for nearly two hours. Needless to say I was incredibly upset because I absolutely love birthdays, and mine didn’t even matter to the people who are the reason for my existence. I have told them for years that I hate that Christmas causes my birthday to be overlooked and to please not do anything Christmasy on my birthday… I now realize I’d rather celebrate Christmas on my birthday than being dragged on errands like I was tonight because then at least we would be celebrating someone’s birthday!

This unexpected shopping trip also meant my plans with the mbff were in peril as he had to work that night and only had so much time. I got really ticked off, and ended up having a fight with my mother who said if I wanted to do something special for my birthday I should have made other plans. Um, hello? Whenever I made other plans on my birthday she would freak out and say it was their day to celebrate with me! Not that they really did, but it was usually at least good for three or so hours rather than under one hour. And I had made plans… but they kept interfering with them!

After finally getting home I walked over to the mbff’s and we just hung out because he didn’t have enough time to watch a movie before work. I felt a bit like a whiney, unwanted houseguest as I had hinted all day at wanting to hang out and saying how horrible my birthday was so far, but not bad enough to not go. He always seems to calm me down and make me feel better just by my being with him, and I really needed that.

I hope he didn’t mind my visiting too much, but I really don’t get how gaming is more important than being with a friend on her birthday. It is however one of the reasons why we make better friends than a couple; if we had been dating his preference to play on the computer would have killed me rather than been an eye-roll inducing event. I was kind of hoping I’d get the birthday present he promised me, but he didn’t offer it. I suppose I could have asked for it, but I wasn’t brave enough…

When I got home I had to wait another hour for the parentals to feel like doing the cake and present thing, and by that point it was nearly no longer my birthday. Dad had picked up a freezer cake (which I admit I like better than bakery cakes, but not as much as DQ’s cakes), and so we ate that after I opened my gifts. Both my Nana and my Grandma had stopped by earlier to drop off birthday cards with money in them (enough to buy two to three books combined), and my parents got me a movie I wanted plus a new watch (I lost my old one a year ago). After that we watched a VHS my parents had bought, and thankfully it was something I didn’t mind seeing as it had been years since I last watched it.

My birthday with the family always seems to be a let down, and I just thought this one would be different. Not only was it an important birthday, but my last one with my parents. By this time next year I’ll be in a far away country, and when I do come back it may not even be to the same province. Maybe I just expected too much, and that’s why it hurt when I didn’t get the birthday I hoped for. I’m an adult now, and no one thinks birthdays are important after you reach double-digits…

No one except me, I guess.

❤ Sumr

…and I’m back! *happy dance*

I guess I hadn’t checked out 2.0 because I was scared of what it would be and that I wouldn’t be able to use it. The very thought was just way too disappointing to handle *sniffle* Then someone mentioned that it was usable and I kept meaning to come see if I could, but never seemed to have the time.

I attempted blogging on a new wordpress account, but it just wasn’t the same… partially because it seemed no one was there. Or at least, I couldn’t tell if anyone was, as I sure wasn’t getting many comments. For some reason that didn’t bother me as much on Xanga; maybe because I knew y’all were reading even if you weren’t commenting?

Anyways, I will be slowly uploading some of the posts I’ve been making on the other page and then will either close the other account or save it until I go to Ireland. That way I’ll just use it as my bloggy of travels… I dunno yet. We’ll see.

So, here I am again and happy to be back. If anyone sees this post, leave me a comment so I know who is still kicking around! And now I just gotta figure out where to find all of your posts…

❤ SUMR

Okay, for anyone who knows me, I have this ridiculous on-again off-again crush on one of my best friends. Though it took him telling me that he was one of my best friends for me to realize how true that was, but it’s another story I think I may have already told. Anyways, since he broke up with his crazy girlfriend (the guy really does have questionable taste, which is going to reflect badly on me in just a moment) he has been flirting with me and essentially hinting that maybe he likes me more than I ever suspected.

You’d think I’d be pretty happy about this considering the crushing thing and all, but it’s actually a concern. I had basically reached the point where I was completely satisfied with having him as my best friend. I mean, I get almost all I’d want from a boyfriend without the drama of one. Boyfriends tend to be like un-neutered pets in that they need attention, caring for, and wanting to get laid… none of which I really want to deal with right now.

I am moving to another country in a year so a boyfriend would cause problems. Not that I’m saying the mbff has outright said that’s where he wanted our relationship to be, so for all I know he’s just having fun with the flirting thing. But if I ended up in a serious relationship with any guy right now he’d expect me to continue seeing him when I leave, and I want to be free to date while I’m there. So the thought of dating my best friend knowing it would have a time limit on it? Yeah, that can’t end well.

Before breaking up with his now ex-gf mbff was talking about helping me plan my trip and taking me to the airport so I wouldn’t have to deal with a spazdic mother while trying to figure out the airline terminal. Now that they’re through, he’s wondering if Ireland may not be everything I expect of it and end up being a waste of four years (saving up to go + living there time).

Honestly, I don’t see how moving to a country I’ve been dying to be in for fifteen years could be a disappointment. Even if I hate it I’ll still have the accomplishment of raising the funds, making the trip, and seeing the sights. I don’t have to stay for two years, so if I find I hate it I can just jump a plane and come home. The only thing I expect of the country is that it will be beautiful and an adventure. Yeah, I really hope I like living there, find a job I enjoy and a nearby place to live, make friends and even have a loving boyfriend… but they’re all things I expect out of life no matter where I live!

If you recall, I once admitted that years ago I had this “feeling” I’d meet the love of my life in Ireland. It felt like a message from God and the universe, and I always believed it to be true if I could just get there. It’s one of the reasons why I am so determined to go, because it feels like my “destiny”. So while all my friends are falling in love, getting married, and having families, I took comfort in knowing that my time would come.

Every once in a while I wondered if I was so set on a mere possibility that I was missing what was right in front of me. I’ve had other boyfriends, one of which I even considered marrying, but none of my relationships last very long because they just didn’t feel right. I would pray, asking for help and wisdom and courage to do whatever was needed to do God’s will, yet never once have I ever felt like I was told I should not go to Ireland. I have always felt like it’s where I am supposed to be, and until then I’m just waiting for my life to begin…

So once again, wondering if maybe my path has changed, I prayed. If I was not to consider having a relationship with the mbff, I wanted a sign. People in the Bible did that all the time, asking God to give definite proof of what they were supposed to do, and got it. Though if I remember right one guy kept asking until God basically told him to stop procrastinating, to just suck it up and do as he’s told.

So I was going to invite the mbff over to watch a movie, but my mum came back from her trip early and I couldn’t anymore. She doesn’t like me having any friends over in her “sanctuary”, aka house, so having him over would cause a big freak out. I asked for the next week, planning on having him over on my day off while my mum was to be at work. Then, not only did my mom get the day off, but I was called into work and, after postponing to a later time, I ended up working nearly twice as long as I was originally asked to.

Finally, for the third try, I decided to change the prayer a bit. I said that if I’m to go to Ireland and find love there, I wanted a different and more positive sign. I wanted to get an email from this guy I met who lives in Ireland if I was to get involved with him (no email, btw), or meet the guy I was to start dating or at least someone who knows the guy (to my knowledge this didn’t happen), or something to do with Ireland like winning the lottery etc… I didn’t win a lottery yet, and maybe I should have been a bit more specific as to what the sign should be in the last option, but I’m not sure I needed it as I did have something happen that had to do with Ireland.

Today the bank machine ate my card for no apparent reason and I had to get a replacement. I got talking to the lady helping me and found out she had been to Ireland the year before, renting a house with her mother and sisters (all the spouses were left behind *snicker*). She told me where they stayed, a town I’d not heard of but is now on my list of places to go, a great airline and how long a direct flight takes (8-10 hours *wince*), how best to travel… and she gave me her email. She is going to loan me a package of information to do with Ireland that she says is a big help.

So basically, twice my “date” with the mbff was canceled and then I met someone who wants to help me with my trip to Ireland. That seems like three concrete answers to my prayers that I am NOT to get further involved with the mbff and keep looking ahead to Ireland. What do you think?

❤ SUMR

For anyone who was following my old blog you already know a bit of back-history, but for any newbies or sporadic readers I’ll give the background info before getting into my thoughts.

About six ago I met a guy and had a bit of a crush on him (checking back to my “Karaoke Scripts”, I think we probably met May 2007). I found out he was in a relationship so I got over my attraction –I don’t steal boyfriends!– and decided to become friends with him. We would talk when I was at his work, but that was about it. Kind of disappointing cuz he seemed like an interesting guy, but c’est la vie.

We lost contact for a bit after the place closed down (possibly the next year), but then we bumped into each other at the local video store a year or two later. I know it was before I went to college, and I’m thinking it was a year prior my leaving as he, me, and B used to go for walks together. Yet that day, when we met again, we got talking about books –y’all know how I love books!– exchanged numbers, and have been friends ever since.

When I was at school we’d skype to watch hockey on tv together (though I think I watched the game more than he did), and I’d keep him company via skype or texting when he was bored –the guy really doesn’t know how to stay occupied when he’s not in a relationship *shakes head* And we got even closer as friends, which was great as we could have just as easily drifted away.

Not just writing him off because he was taken way back when was a wise decision on my part, because the guy is awesome and has become one of my closest friends. I eventually granted him the label of my “best male friend”. I have had two other BMF previously, but I married one off to one of my female best friends and the other one moved so I’m not as close to them as I used to be. Even though I have had those other friends who are guys, it wasn’t quite like this. It’s with this one that I always turn to for advice or what-have-you.

Even though our mutual gal pal B has moved (I always thought they were closer friends with each other than to me), he and I still go for walks and/or go out for coffee. We went for a walk about two weeks ago and our conversation took a slightly different turn. Normally I yammer on about this and that since he’s not the most talkative type and I’m occasionally uncomfortable with silence, but this time he controlled most of the conversation and it seemed to be about more serious things than usual.

While we had stopped at a bench so he could have an icky cigarette and I to lecture him on how bad it is for him, he said a couple things I didn’t think anything of at the time but did later. The first was that he was one of my best friends, and for some reason I was oddly surprised by it. Yes, he’s my best guy friend, but I had never classified him as an actual best friend. He was totally right! I don’t treat him any different from my besties… though if I had to chose between my girls and him, I’d be all up in his face on behalf of my gal pals (I know this to be true, because it has already happened once or twice *L0L*).

Later I realized, though, he didn’t say where I stood in his life. Maybe he’s not as comfortable talking about his feelings as he is comfortable talking about mine *rolls eyes* I would have liked for him to have said I was one of his close friends, though I don’t presume I’m one of his best friends. I’m just not sure he’s the type to have a female best friends, a lot of female friends, yes, but not necessarily best friends who are girls. Knowing I’m a good friend and not a mere acquaintance just would have been good to hear because it’s nice to know I’m wanted.

The other thing he said was that he was my substitute boyfriend; it was the other thing in our conversation to give me pause. I guess in a way he could be, but then again not really. I don’t treat him all that differently than my girl besties; there are things I talk to him about that I don’t tell the others and vice versa, but that’s the only alteration between the two types.

It is the fact that he’s a guy that makes it seem like he’s taking the place of a boyfriend I suppose. We text each other, go for walks, trade books, get coffee, sometime cuddle up while watching the rare movie together. We don’t talk every day, or discuss plans with one enough before making a decision, we don’t kiss, and only once have we gone out to dinner together (which is something I do more frequently with other friends, besties or no).

I do want a boyfriend who is my friend, but I think that relationship would be different from what I have with him. Yes, at this time, he does take the place as “the guy in my life”. I have to admit this way I don’t have to deal with the drama of getting into a real relationship when I’m leaving in ten months to live in another country for up to two years. I don’t really feel the lack of a boyfriend because I have him as a best friend.

Anyways, last evening I was frikken cold and my hot chocolate was long gone, so he told me to give him one of my hands. This wasn’t entirely unusual, because when I get cold I normally wrap my hands around his arm to warm up or he would chafe one of my hands between his. The guy exudes heat like a freaking radiator! But when I gave my hand he insisted we intertwine our fingers to pretend we were dating. I was just all whatever at the time because I stayed warm for the rest of the walk by switching hand-sides every so often, but later I realized…

Wait, what?! I couldn’t recall his exact wording, but did he imply I pretend he’s my boyfriend? That’s just a no. I don’t live in some delusional fantasy world where he’s my boy-toy, as I’m quite clearly cognitive of the fact he is with someone else and has never once asked me out. We’re friends, and I’m good with that. I’m not some psycho stalker-wannabe girlfriend type! It made me wonder if I am, in fact, not an actual friend to him but a “pity acquaintance” whom he humors by giving his attention.

Okay, I know he likely isn’t thinking that nor meant to be potentially insulting, but I’m a very imaginative person so drawing a gajillion possible conclusions is always going to happen within the head of a creative-type person such as myself. I know I have a tendency to overanalyze things sometimes, and I know very well if B reads this she’d like to smack me upside the head for even saying it, but it was a thought that crossed my mind so I’m writing it out.

Basically, it all comes down to this one thing. The same thing that always seems to happen… I just cannot figure out what is going on in that boy’s mind!

❤ Sumr

A few months ago when I was visiting @Karoline1982 we were watching television while eating breakfast and “Say Yes to the Dress” came on. Needless to say, since that day I was hooked on the show and have been watching it periodically since. Last week I saw an episode that had my dream dress in the background, or as close to my dream dress as I had seen. I was half hoping one of the brides would try it on so I’d get a better look at it, and half praying that they wouldn’t get my dress –which is entirely stupid because it was in Atlanta who knows how long ago.

Now every night I’ve been dreaming variations of that dress, and the dream always has a similar theme: It’s for Caroline’s wedding (BTW, Caro, your wedding colour is silver) and I see my dream dress. The first night it was Caroline trying on wedding dresses and I keep staring at “my” dress. I don’t say anything because this is her day and her moment, but she notices and after she finds her dress she calls me back to the dressing room where she’s had the attendant bring my dress to try on.

The next day I got thinking about that, and figured there was a good chance that Caro would be getting married while I’m in Ireland. I’m hoping the wedding would be after I get back because I’m worried I may not have the money for the flight, but c’est la vie. So after that thought is set in my head, there is a change in my dream that night.

I’m living in Ireland and I have to go try on bridesmaid dresses for Caroline’s wedding so she’ll know my size and can order all the dresses together. She had given me a list of styles to try that the other bridesmaids liked, and the option to try on any style I like. The colour is still silver, but Caro is undecided if she wants everyone in the same dress or different dresses in the same colour.

While looking for bridesmaid dresses to try on, I see a dress like in the movie “Funny Face”. In the film it’s a wedding dress, but in my dream it’s a dress that can be for the wedding or you can order a pinafore overskirt to give it a different colour. I absolutely fall in love with it and want it for my dress and am hoping against hope that it comes in silver so I can wear it to Caro’s wedding, but also that I can wear it at my own reception without the pinafore.

I woke up at that point –probably due to either of my parents getting up for work– and when I fell back to sleep I was in Canada to try on my bridesmaid dress but there was a problem in the dressing room. The lady in Ireland sent a fax with the proper sizes and all, but the lady in the Canadian store messed up and got a flower girl dress. We found my dress on the racks, but she wanted to charge me for both dresses when she was at fault and I had to ask for the manager.

Now that is rather unlikely, because I hate making a fuss and what are the chances that ever happening? Then last night I had still more dreams about my dress, but it was a bit different and well more different again. I was still going in a store in Ireland to try on dresses for Caroline’s wedding, but there was a new twist…

I went into the store in Ireland asking if I needed an appointment to try on bridesmaid dresses, and while there I saw my absolute and utter dream wedding dress. It still had that princess tulle skirt, but this time it went to the floor with a train and shimmered (think Princess Diaries II red dress sparklies). I stopped in my tracks and had to try it on as it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and I simply couldn’t resist.

It was perfect. It fit fabulously, even the length! Well, provided I was wearing heels that is. I wanted it so badly, but I wasn’t even engaged. I was dating someone, sure, but it wasn’t like I had the money for a wedding dress though I was tempted to figure out how to fit it in my budget anyways.

I woke up again in the night again, but not yet. I had more of this dream before I was woken up by my mum, then went back to bed and the dream had shifted some. Because they are so closely tied together I decided to give the explanation now instead of when the first dream finished as both involve a man.

In the first dream my male best friend comes in the store. His job just stationed him in Ireland and he came for a visit while he had time to spare. As soon as he saw me in the dress he knew he wanted to spend his life with me and dropped to his knees right there in the store. I wasn’t sure what to do because while I did have a crush on him years ago it had moved into friendship, and I was currently dating someone in Ireland.

The next part kept changing, because my dream self couldn’t figure out how to deal with this. In one instance I say yes, in another I make it look like I say yes but tell him we need to talk, and lastly I pretend he was joking by dealing with it as nicely as possible but not taking it seriously. I ask him if he has time to hang out while I try on the bridesmaid dresses and then we can spend some time visiting. I wake up when I go back in the dressing room, and after falling back asleep there is no male best friend in the picture, but the guy I had been dating.

There I am standing on the runway looking at the gorgeousness of the dress. In the background the attendant is quietly talking to the manager or owner of the store, telling her she’d never seen someone cry when they saw the dress of their dreams on a mannequin before even trying it on. Then there he is, my lovely Irish boyfriend. I didn’t know why he was there, but I was a bit worried about him seeing me in a wedding dress because we hadn’t talked about marriage and I though he might freak out thinking I was seriously jumping the gun.

But he doesn’t. He just smiles at me and says I am the most beautiful bride he’s ever seen and would I do him the honour of marrying him. He even pulls out my dream ring, the one I had designed when I was a teenager. Naturally I say yes, and the whole store cheers while I cry happy tears. My now finance says, “I guess you better get this dress.” And that’s when I realize I hadn’t even looked at the price tag because I hadn’t planned on actually buying it, just sort of dreamed about doing so.

I turn to the attendant and the manager (who are ones from the TV show), asking how much the dress is. The price is insane even if I had planned and saved for a wedding. But then she continues, it doesn’t need alterations and I can buy it off the rack which will make it cheaper, along with it being on sale. It was still a lot, but an affordable a lot. And she was also going to include shoes, a veil, and jewellery.

If you watch SYTTD a fair bit, you’ll recognize a few things in my dream from the show. There is a bridesmaid version, there was a dress mix up (though in the show’s case it was a misplaced dress and not the wrong one), a bride wanted a silver dress, a relative was trying on wedding dresses at the same time, a couple of brides were proposed to in the store, another bride was given her dress, etc…

Needless to say, I can hardly wait to go to Ireland, fall in love, and get married *L0L*

❤ SUMR

Some of you may have seen my previous post about “My Perfect Day” from earlier this week. It wasn’t a real day, not yet, but it is a day I hope will come at some point in the future. I was thinking about what I would consider an ideal twenty-four hours due to a book I had just finished reading called “Love is a Thief” by Claire Garber. I plan to do a review about the book itself on my book blog at some point soon, so I won’t get into that here.

The basic premise of the book is the main character, Kate, has just gotten out of a relationship and had to ask herself: What do I like doing? What did I not get to do because I was in a relationship? What would I be happy doing for the rest of my life? And so began her quest to discover what her “love-stolen dreams” are and set about accomplishing them.

One of the characters in the novel is a life coach Kate goes to see, and he walks her through a visualization exercise. And before you start saying not to believe everything I come across in a fictional works, I do know that many coaches suggest visualization to help you reach your goals. I had recently come across the practice in my quest for fitness, and didn’t think to apply it to the larger picture that is my entire life.

The life coach has Kate imagine her perfect day, saying it would help her figure out what she wants out of life. Too many people focus on what they don’t want, so the universe –and your brain– hears are the same words repeated over and over again… and it isn’t hearing the “don’t” part of the equation. That is why so many people get exactly what they don’t want, rather than what they do.

This exercise will help focus on what you truly desire and whenever you feel discouraged,  you can think back to this dream day and remind yourself why you’re doing what you are: It is taking life one step at a time to reach your goal.  And it isn’t just the material or physical aspects of the dream you should take note of, but the feelings of emotion you have as well. Joy, excitement, contentment, love, friendship… It’s all there. Every morning you should take a few minutes to go back to your perfect day, so you become used to feeling that way. You deserve to be happy, and shouldn’t feel guilty about a lack of stress or worry or sadness or anger or frustration.

So that’s what I did. I took some time, did my yoga deep-breathing to clear and calm my mind, and then spent a few minutes imagining what my perfect day would be like. I saw myself having a wonderful husband with a child on the way, I was a published author and an editor, I was living in the UK, had some really cute vehicles, was still in touch with my best friends… It really is simply perfect. It is everything I want in life: a loving family, wonderful friends, a job I enjoy, and living in a place that feels like home.

We spend far too much time in the present reality and don’t take enough time to just…be. Be ourselves, be truthful about our hopes and desires, be happy. If we focus on what our current and possibly unsatisfactory life is, then we’ll get bogged down and start to lose hope. And that is so important, because without the hope of what may come, faith we can achieve our dreams, and a love of self, what is life really worth existing for? I can achieve my dreams. I will have my perfect day. And I know I deserve to have everything my heart truly desires.

What is your dream day like and do you believe you deserve to have it?

SUMR

I slowly wake up to a kiss and give a sleepy smile, before rolling over to snuggle further into my pillow. There is a tugging of my comforter and I pout, even as I hear “Oh, no you don’t” with a deep, glorious laugh.  

I’m pulled out of bed and up against the hardness of his body for another kiss before he nudges me towards the bathroom with a pat on my bottom. I swat at his hand, but go into the bathroom to shuck my pajamas and shower. I know that while I am in there he will have let the dogs out into the back garden.

As I exit the bathroom wearing my comfy robe , I head for the kitchen to see he’s already eaten. I’m still a bit sleep befuddled, and realize he must have an early meeting today. He looks up to smile at me before folding up his newspaper —he likes print more than digital so we have one delivered every morning. By the paper I see an envelope with familiar writing on it, which he picks up and he heads over to where I’m standing.

He shows me the envelope and I reach for it, but he holds it up in the air. Laughing, I try to grab it but can’t. Finally, when the gaping robe showing off my cleavage distracts him, I grab the letter.  He slips his hand into my robe from my stomach to my bare back, and gives me another kiss before heading off to work.

I pour myself some cereal and take a quick glance through the paper to check out the latest news, then rip open the letter I’d just gotten from Caroline. I eat breakfast while reading, and absentmindedly pet the chocolate lab lying under the kitchen table with my foot. I love getting letters from my bestie!

I put my dish in the sink, and with Marmallow following behind me I go to the living room to crank the stereo. I pick up our other puppy, a maltese cross named Bellissima, and rock out down the hall. Putting Bella down I open the doors to my closet, large enough to be a walk-in but isn’t quite, and ask them, “What shall I wear today?” I finally decide on a pretty sundress, which I lay out on the bed, and change from my robe into a tank top with flannel pants and fuzzy socks.

Still trailed by Mars and Bella, I go to my home office and start up my laptop. The dogs keep me company as I spend the morning writing my latest novel until an alarm goes off. My man must have set it for me knowing that if it wasn’t I’d lose complete track of time, and today I couldn’t be late. I get dressed, do my hair and make-up, then blow a kiss to the puppies as I walk out the door.

I give my vespa a pat as I walk by (even though it’s rather impractical I had always wanted one) and contemplate driving my new VW bug, but I decide to walk instead because I hate parking downtown. It’s only a fifteen minute trek to the café and it’s a lovely day out for a stroll. I go down the walkway and cross over a footbridge, pausing a moment to enjoy the scenery and give a wave to some neghbourhood children playing nearby.

I arrive at the café to see Holly has already arrived and gotten a table for us. She’s visiting from some nearby European country, probably Spain or France but who knows with her, and made time to have lunch with me. We have an enjoyable meal, and we make plans to have another get-together the next month before she has to leave for her meeting. I check my watch and realized that I need to get going as well.

I stroll through town, pausing to look in the window of an independently owned bookshop. It’s one of my favourites and I wave back at the owner who is arranging the display. He wiggles a book at me and I grin, as it’s one I had worked on (either written or edited). I continue on my way and go into an adorable office building, very quaint rather than the more modern glass-and-steel.

I pause here and there to chat with this person or that, and then settle at my own desk to go through my slush pile hoping to find a diamond among the unsolicited manuscripts. I work until someone asks me if I want to go to a nearby pub with them, and I realize the workday is over. I decline and head home instead.

I buy a bouquet of wild flowers on my way back, and try to keep them from being mangled in the puppies’ excitement of their owner being back. I let the dogs out into the back garden, and put the flowers in a vase. While I’m arranging them I hear the door open and close, smiling at the knowledge that he’s home from work, too. His arms come around me and I cuddle back into his strong embrace.

I turn for a kiss, then slip from his grasp to take the flowers into the dining room to put on the table there. He has started pulling out the ingredients for dinner, and we cook together. Once he even takes me in his arms to dance around the kitchen and I all but knock us down from laughing so hard.

We take our dinner into the dinning room, and as we eat we discuss our days, our future family, when we’ll next visit our respective parents. We call the dogs in, them having run off any excess energy, and give them their dinner. While they eat we do the dishes, him up to his elbows in suds and me drying because he knows I hate to wash.

He and I go to the living room and the puppies follow. Bellissima curls up on her dog pillow, but Marmallow flops down on the rug at our feet. Picking up our latest book he reads aloud to me, and I curl up into his side with his arm around me. I love the lyricism of his lilt and slowly drift to sleep to the flow of his words and the rhythm of his heart beating in my ear. I tend to tire out a lot easier than I used to now that I’m a couple months pregnant. I’m grateful, as I prefer sleepiness to morning sickness.

I wake up just a little when I realize he is lifting me into his arms, and I wrap my own around him and nuzzle the crook of his neck as he carries me to bed. He lays me down, helps me into my pajamas, and then gets ready for bed himself. He crawls in next to me and wraps his arms around me. “I love you” is the last thing I hear from my husband before drifting back into a sound sleep. 

SUMR

Originally posted on July 3rd on the other blog as well, but for the same reason of wanting to keep certain eyes off of it I am moving it over here… Once again, I’ll be adding more recent face-desk inducing recent events to it.

I love my jobs, I really do, but there are some things that simply drive me up the wall. As y’all know at my day job it is my bosses incomprehension, indecisiveness, and general mayhem that tweaks me. But I wasn’t working there yesterday, today, or until Tuesday actually (I had no idea Monday was a holiday until someone mentioned it was a long weekend *facepalm*). 

A month or two ago my brother, yes my brother, recommend a friend of his to use my editing services. This is probably because my brother hates to appear unknowledgeable and, when asked if he knew anything about publishing, Boo replied that his sister was in the business. This surprised said friend considering he had no idea my bro had any siblings. 

I was pretty excited by this fact for a few reasons. First,  Boo actually admitted to having a family other than his wife’s relations. For some inexplicable reason he doesn’t want to admit he has such a fantabulous sister (though I kinda get wanting to disown the parental units at times), when he should be proudly crowing my existence. Second, it is a new writer to work with, and I love shaping budding authors and polishing their works into greatness. I don’t do many freelance jobs, and this guy mentioned he’d be willing to work with me on all his future projects as well. Bonus! Third, the money. I need more of it, plain and simple. 

Unfortunately, even the promise of twice what I’m charging is hardly worth the time and effort this manuscript is going to take. I’ve already had to send it back for the author to add paragraphs–that’s kind of writing 101, don’t you think? He also has no concept of punctuation, with the only thing he (sort of) uses correctly being periods. There aren’t any commas, yet there are semicolons thrown in at the oddest moments. Nevertheless, I could probably handle all that if it weren’t for the fact he doesn’t write in complete sentences, and when he does they are really simple sentences. This guy has dreams of becoming a full-time author, but has the writing skills of a grade school kid. It’s a problem.

I can only hope that with this manuscript he learns a lot from me about writing and the editing process. He claims to have edited his manuscript already, but there is now way it has been given the state it’s in. I recall that my first freelance job with an old classmate of mine was another manuscript in pretty bad shape when I got it, but two years and two more books later I noticed how much her skill had improved. I hope this guy will absorb everything I’m telling him and applies it to any future…well, basically, every single thing he ever writes ever again. 

The editing I do for the publishing company is a lot different. The writers have a much better grasp on the written language, even the ones who aren’t already published authors. I don’t have to deal with “See-Jack-Run” type sentences or deciphering anything with a more “complex” sentence structure. With the novels I receive from them in need of my developmental skills, I can usually do five to ten pages per hour. On this manuscript it is taking me at least an hour for every one to two pages, because I have to figure out what this guy is trying to say and correct it, though I am not always successful in decoding it. 

I really am going to have to create a schedule of when I will work on this ms, edit for the other company, work on my book review blog, set up tweets on my “professional” account, and when I have time for fun on other social media platforms such as this one. It is the only way I’m going to get my life organized and, quite honestly, get the editing on this book done. I wasted all of yesterday and most of today doing nothing but avoiding working on the book, when I should be doing a couple hours a day. So, just as soon as I get to a round page number, (ie. ten, twenty, thirty) I will commence to work out a timeline for a more organized existence. 

Wow, all this whining probably sounds really bad, and if any of you ever write a book you probably won’t want me working on it when you know I procrastinate like the dickens and complain about people with poor communication skills. Then again, there is a pretty good chance you’ve got a firm grasp on grammar because I wouldn’t be reading your posts if you didn’t, and thus the likelihood of my desire to lament the death of our language in regards to your writing is minimal. So please, do hire me! *L0L*

UPDATE: I have created said schedule for my time, but I forgot to add social media to it *note to self* And I have approximately ten hours in which to work on this person’s manuscript per week thus managing approximately eighty pages per month… and it is 350 pages long. I just got the manuscript back from him regarding that paragraph resend and a mere two weeks later he’s asking me how much longer it will take to finish editing. Um, excuse me? I already told him before I even started it will be a minimum of three months to complete the process! It’s like he’s as bad as my other bosses: absolutely no comprehension whatsoever how much effort goes into this kind of work. It’s positively mind-boggling to me. Anyone in the publishing industry or even a vague interest in it should have some approximate idea of how hard it is to edit someone’s work. I just want to start smacking people. ARG! Okay, yeah, I could be a little stressed right now on top of being exhausted and feeling mildly ill, so that could be why my frustration level is through the roof. My pardon for feeling violent at the moment. 

MORE UP TO DATE: Yeah, that manuscript was pretty much the straw that broke the camel’s back as I was feeling overwhelmed by everything going on in my life plus not being illish. I’m feeling a bit better and I’ve calmed down some, so I’m not quite as aggravated by the manuscript but more hopeful that his skill improves the further I get into it and that his writing skill will improve after I send back the first edits. I mean, at least he took the time to write a novel and had the courage to want it published, right? I just have to keep that in mind when I feel like giving up on it. 

This was originally posted on my other blog on July 31st, but I realized I’d have to keep it private for fear someone at work might see it… but since I can still post on here, I’m doing it! There will also be some additions from today’s aggro 

Go to this link and play this song. Pay a special, close attention to the lyrics of the first thirty seconds… this is what I was singing in my head all day, so that should give you a good idea as to how my day was going.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snPgFNMCXBs

Now for the breakdown:

As my schedule of twelve hours a week doesn’t have me start until 1pm, I told “SC” not to come in until after that time so I could be there to help. So what do I see as I am walking down the street towards work? SC’s truck. SC was fifteen minutes early, so I ran the rest of the way to the studio because, knowing SC, help is expected even from other people who don’t know what they’re doing.

Then once SC was dealt with and I finished the opening duties (turning on lights, unlocking doors, prepping the till, etc), I moved on to checking phone and email messages. And guess what I found… A message from my boss saying a client lodged a complaint against me for not finishing his project. Excuse me? This would be the client whom I’ve told FOUR times that I was missing information and couldn’t get any further without it? I don’t think so! I sent a very polite “reminder” email of exactly the information I needed and BCC’d my boss in on it.

I also had an email from my boss saying what had to get done today and what was due on Monday (as I don’t work Thurs through Sat). Some of these things are projects she said not to worry about because there was plenty of time to do them, so I was not to stress about having too much to do and not enough hours. One said project will take me approximately three days to do, and I’m supposed to get it done in four hours on Monday… along with two other assignments.

There are approximately twelve to fifteen things on my to-do list, most of which are research and/or writing assignments. I don’t think my boss fully comprehends how much time and effort such things take, especially when I have to also deal with other “emergency” assignments I get (as in when I’m told “I need this done immediately”) along the way.

It certainly doesn’t help that my previous boss, the studio owner –remember, he sold the company I now work for but they are still in the same building– doesn’t seem to recall that I NO LONGER WORK FOR HIM and keeps giving me things to do. Some of them are relevant to my role as a receptionist, but others just don’t fit in my job description. At all. Such as hauling things out of the storage room to be loaded into a truck thus getting my lovely dress covered with dust and setting off my allergies for the remainder of the day. Or cleaning broken glass outside while wearing sandals and getting glass shards embedded into my foot. And then there is creating a financial projection for a company when I have absolutely no business or accounting education whatsoever.

I thought I lucked out today, because the owner didn’t come in at all during my shift. For nearly the first time ever I was actually the last person in the building, as everyone else left before 5pm. I had finished my closing duties and slipped into the loo before starting my walk home when I heard a door slam. Needless to say I was a little freaked out, particularly when I saw someone sitting at my desk. It seems the owner thought I didn’t close up properly leaving the lights and computer on in the main room. Um, my bag wasn’t a big clue I was still there?

So as always happens, he had to tell me about everything going on in his life with his indecisive manner and thus keeping me another ten to fifteen minutes after my finish time. On my way home I texted any relevant information I thought the gallery administrator should know (we tend to give each other FYIs  due to the owner giving incomplete information, and we can usually cobble together what he wants based on what he tells us two plus the project manager) only to find out he’s telling us completely opposite information! Now both the GA and I are doing some serious *facedesk*ing; she’s contemplating giving her notice as she has another job that wants her to go full time, whereas I don’t even work for him and have to deal with his stressing me out!

On a plus note, I’m still exercising five or six times a week and eating fairly healthy, the weather was really nice –if a little warm for running– and a cute guy came into the gallery today. I hadn’t seen him in a while as he used to come earlier in the day and I’m no longer working then. I managed to get him word that my schedule changed and he came by this afternoon instead

Oh, and chocolate is about to get eaten *yum*

UPDATE: I had to deal with old boss, new boss, and the project manager all giving me things to do. Even when I reminded my boss that I was already given a priority project to complete today –two actually– I still have more work piled on. So I did the things the three of them asked of me, then moved onto my first priority project. Remember that content writing thing I mentioned above that should take three days? Well some how or another I managed to get a first draft done in just under three hours. The project manager’s assignment didn’t get done, but that was do to a temperamental computer and I had already given it enough time struggling with it.

Then at the end of the day I handed old boss his project, but he decided to sit down and tell me about how he spent his weekend thus causing him to be so tired and blah blah blah. Oh, and he was on my computer while doing it so I couldn’t sign out or close the thing down. Finally I told him I was attending a play tonight and I was short on time so did he mind if I left now? I’m not even working for the guy, but what else could I do? He sighed and said he could finish closing up so I could leave. Um, excuse me? I would have been gone by now if it weren’t for him and all he needed to do was shut off said computer he was using and turn off the lights in the room when he was done. What is so sigh-worthy about that? 

On my way home I started texting my friends to remind them again of the play tonight only to have every single one of them bail on me! I understood why GA did as her friend was coming from the west coast a day early (said visit being the reason why I’m taking her thursday shift as well), but the others have far less reason. One is visiting his girlfriend –um, bring her!– and two others didn’t think they could make it after all because one claimed to have “too much on my plate” and the other “overbooked”. I really hate it when people cancel plans last minute for ridiculous excuses. I mean, it’s one thing if you’ve come down with the flu or got a surprise visit from a relative, but just not feeling like it anymore is plain ol’ rude. I don’t even feel well, but I’m still going!

SUMR